


Trysting Tattoos

by DeltaS



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-06-02
Packaged: 2018-07-11 20:53:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7069600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeltaS/pseuds/DeltaS
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Missing maps and a captain's modesty -- now what can all of that mean?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trysting Tattoos

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written and posted in July 1998

The laughter at the table in the mess hall quieted quickly as the statuesque form of the Seven cast a cold shadow upon the group. Without offering an explanation, she icily looked at Chakotay.

"Commander Chakotay, I have need of you in astrometrics."

Harry Kim, Tom Paris and B’Elanna Torres raised their hands almost in unison to stifle uncontrollable laughs that the Borg’s demand of their second-in-command had produced.

Chakotay looked at her, smiling in the manner that was known to charm many a female heart in the galaxy.

"All right, Seven. After I have finished my meal I’ll be with you. Let’s say in ... oh, fifteen minutes?"

Seven straightened her already ramrod posture and took another step towards the first officer, her cheeks becoming flushed as her voice rose in timbre.

"Commander, I need to see you now! It is of vital interest to this ship."

"If it is such urgency, shouldn’t you be speaking to the captain rather than me?" the man stated matter-of-factly.

"I will speak with Captain Janeway after I have verified my hypothesis. But for that, I need you... and I need you now," the tall woman persevered.

Again, the muffled expressions around the table surfaced. They all knew who Chakotay would rather say I need you... and it was not the blonde automaton standing next to their table. Poor Chakotay!

Harry finally decided to make the ultimate sacrifice.

"Seven, Chakotay has just joined us, and only now is starting his dinner. I’ve about completed my meal; how about if I help you?"

"No, only Commander Chakotay can satisfy me," the woman stated solemnly, oblivious to the devastation that her comment quickly brought to Harry’s face.

Chakotay moved his chair back, and reached over to console the younger man.

"That’s all right, Harry; another time maybe. It’s clear when experience is needed over youth; I’d better go," he winked at the other man.

Tom and B’Elanna were now about to explode from the double entendre scene that was taking place in front of them, with Chakotay leading the poor hapless Seven down a well-known path. Harry was squirming in his chair, his emotional response having taken a 180 degree turn. He now was obviously succumbing to the throes of a case of giggles.

"Thank you, Commander," Seven stated solemnly, turning sharply. "Please come with me."

"Of course," Chakotay responded, quickly catching up with her long strides. The pair quickly disappeared behind the fast-closing doors of the mess hall.

"Now what do you think that was all about?" asked Harry.

"Well, for your sake, my friend, let’s hope it isn’t what you’re thinking it is," responded Tom, slapping the younger man’s back.

Harry roughly pushed Tom’s hand away.

"And just what is that supposed to mean? I’m over all of that... infatuation."

B’Elanna now chimed in.

"Oh, come on, Harry. We know what you really want... down deep, in that wounded heart of yours. And, you know," she said, looking over at Tom, her eyes inviting his agreement, "I just think she might like you, too!"

Harry shook his head, thinking of the abuse that he had been through thanks to their newest crew member.

"Yeah... she’d like to kill me," he mumbled.

"Harry, Harry... she’s just a kid. And don’t you remember how boys and girls really beat up on the ones they truly like? No... I don’t think you have a thing to worry about. Now, Chakotay just might; I think she was serious about needing him for something." He suddenly looked around at the other crew members present in the mess hall. "I just hope that none of this gets misconstrued or taken out of context if the Captain does hear about this little escapade."

"Well, it won’t be from me," said Harry.

"Or me," smirked B’Elanna. "I don’t want you to get into any more trouble than you usually do," she stated through a smile as she good-naturedly jabbed her handsome blond helmsman in his perpetually bruised, Klingon-ravaged ribs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The doors to the astrometrics lab opened, revealing the many screens with their images of Delta Quadrant foci.

"This way, Commander," Seven of Nine continued brusquely, signaling the man to the video station where she finally stopped. "I have come across a very interesting signal that I would like for you to see."

Seven’s high-heeled boots placed her at about the same height as the man approaching her. He positioned himself at her side, rather than trying to grasp the information by looking over her shoulder. She touched several of the keys on the keypadd on the monitor. At first, all that appeared were irregular lines indicating static in a radiowave message. Quickly the lines began to coalesce against the green background, and a definite image appeared in front of him.

He stared at it for a few seconds before recognition registered in his mind. A slight gasp escaped from his lips, and he physically fell back a few millimeters, for, on the screen before him was a design a portion of which the larger portion he was well familiar... it was the identical image of wings and lines that decorated the left side of his forehead!

"Seven... this looks like..."

"The tattoo that you have had since your youth. Yes, Commander, that’s exactly what I thought and why I felt the necessity to bring you here to see for yourself," Seven said with droll self-satisfaction.

Chakotay was tracing the outline of the pattern that came out of his distant familial heritage.

"Where did this come from?" he asked, dumbfounded.

Seven was now also following the angles of the design with her finger.

"I was working some more on signals that we were receiving from the message arrays several months ago... along with the messages from Starfleet. I have been attempting to decode additional messages for Voyager," she stated quietly, not wishing for the first officer to notice a softer side that was being revealed.

She cleared her throat, and spoke more firmly.

"There seemed to be some subspace static among the communication waves, so I amplified them to see if they, too, were part of the damaged messages that people were expecting. I was rather confused at first, for I could not identify pattern. When I began to look at it a section at a time, I realized that this part (she pointed to the left half of the pattern) was your personal mark."

Chakotay was still staring at the screen in disbelief.

"Surely this is just a coincidence. After all, the pattern is drawn from known designs with aboriginal meaning, and..." He cut his words short, as memories of an earlier Delta Quadrant experience with his "sign" flooded his conscious.

"What is it, Commander?" the tall Borg woman asked, sensing his thinking processes.

He looked at her, yet looked straight through her as, he spoke.

"Seven, almost three years ago, we came upon a planet where a native population lived that I believe may have been my ancestors on Earth. You see, they had the technologies thousands of years ago to travel across space, and they chose the ancient ancestors of my people with whom to make contact. They used this design in their early communications with us."

Seven looked at him incredulously. "If they traveled that great a distance so long ago, why did they not share their knowledge with you?"

"That is one of the great mysteries. They seem to have lost the capability of space travel, although they can -- and do -- protect their planet and civilization by controlling the weather."

"And you say that you recognized them by this sign?" she questioned.

"Yes. They had the same tattoo markings, and they shared other symbols with which I am familiar from my family’s culture. Yet... they said nothing about knowing a way to travel Earth... or for that matter, the Alpha Quadrant."

"I have not detected any identifying plasma pattern with this signal to connect it with a population so far away in the Delta Quadrant. And I have no Borg recollection of such a people," Seven stated.

Like a silent siren, the image on the screen seemed to call to the two people. Seven’s attention was quickly drawn back to it.

"This... coincidence... of the design is most perplexing. Let me amplify it further."

The woman again gave instructions to the monitor, and the image became magnified by a factor of ten. He saw that the enlarged lines were composed of many dots, similar to pixels in computer graphics.

"Do you think that this is a graphic design?" he asked, looking the screen in front of them.

"No, Commander. These are images from space. What I think we are seeing is a pattern of stars and solar systems." She quickly superimposed another image on top of the design. "Let me try this. Yes... just what I surmised. What we now see..."

"...is a map of the Delta Quadrant," Chakotay finished, his eyes grown large with astonishment and his mouth slowly mouthing the surprised words. "The pattern encompasses our journey so far in the Delta Quadrant. But what is the rest of the design? Where is it going? Will it give us further information into our travels? And why this design....what is the rest of it?"

Seven looked at him with confident eyes.

"Commander, I believe this to be a map of the Delta Quadrant, leading back to the Alpha Quadrant. However, you will see here," she stated as she followed the pixeled patterns, "it seems to be incomplete. You see how the straight lines in your tattoo weave into the new part on the right... another coiled pattern. And yet, the coil does not appear to be complete."

"Have you found any more of the images which might be part of the puzzle pieces?" Chakotay asked.

"I have not," she answered. "I have spent several hours searching for just those designs; but nothing has matched."

Chakotay’s shoulders slumped a few degrees, as he stated flatly, "In other words, we have an incomplete map."

"Not necessarily," Seven continued. "I believe that we will find them."

She turned, and looked at his tattoo studiously.

"Commander, is there anyone else on Voyager who has markings like yours?"

"Do you mean a tattoo? No, I don’t think so. At least, not any that are visible." His eyes started gleaming, as a soft laugh came from his throat.

"Do you find this question amusing?" Seven asked, somewhat rebuffed.

Chakotay stifled the humorous thoughts. "No, not at all. It just reminds me of times in Earth’s history when people used tattoos, not as a badge of honor such as mine, but as body decorations. The designs were sometimes placed in rather... um... private areas."

Seven’s eyebrow rose, as she inquired, "Oh? Where were they found?"

Chakotay continued. "Well, most of the visible ones were on the arms or hands or shoulders. Men frequently had them on their torsos. But, sometimes..." the face of the dark man became quite infused with a deep blush,"... sometimes they would have the designs placed on their buttocks or thighs; and, in the case of women, their breasts or..."

Seven’s head jerked with instinctive sublimated pain when he mentioned the last anatomical area.

"Why would they do such things?" she asked.

He swallowed, and continued. "Sometimes just to know that they bore a mark in a hidden area... sometimes to surprise... um... intimate acquaintances..."

"You mean, like their lovers?" she interjected.

"Yes, something like that," he continued, wishing to change the subject. "However, the practice disappeared around the middle of the twenty-first century, and now is seen only in cultures such as mine in which they are used ritualistically."

Seven was obviously in thought again.

"Commander, would there be anyone aboard Voyager who might know of any markings such as these on any other crew members?"

The first officer shook his head, thinking about such invasions of privacy, but suddenly brightened.

"Medical records!" he suddenly said. "The Doctor should have such items noted in crewmembers’ medical histories!"

"Then I would suggest we start there," Seven stated firmly. "I shall proceed there immediately; the doctor and I work well together."

Chakotay grabbed her arm, as she turned quickly to make the trip to sickbay.

"Seven, I believe that I should investigate this. It is my responsibility as first officer to retrieve such privileged information on a need-to-know basis. You remain here, to monitor for more information from other possible signals. Oh.. and Seven, please keep this information to yourself, until I have talked with Captain Janeway about how we should proceed."

The Borg human was taken back a little, but responded with a knowledgeable nod to the senior officer.

"As you wish, Commander," she answered, the barest hint of a small pout on her face.

As he hurriedly left the lab area, he turned, and seeing the rather disappointed appearance on Seven’s face, he commented, "Oh... and great job, Seven. This is the best news we’ve had in a long time."

With Borg control, she conquered the displeasure and turned back to her monitors.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chakotay hit his commbadge the minute he got on the turbolift.

"Chakotay to Captain Janeway," he stated.

"Janeway here. What is it, Commander?"

"Captain, Seven has shown me some very interesting information in astrometrics that I would like to discuss with you."

"All right," she responded. "I’m in my quarters right now. Shall we meet in my ready room?"

"I’m currently on the turbolift, Captain. Your quarters are closer for both of us than the bridge... if you think that is appropriate," he added, as a second thought.

The captain’s husky laugh came across the communicator. "With a comment like that, Commander, what do you have in mind?"

Now it was his turn to chuckle. "Well, I was just thinking that if you are uncomfortable with my..."

"Nonsense! I’ll see you in a few minutes," Janeway said, signaling the end of the communiqué.

Chakotay amended his destination and the lift came to an abrupt halt at the deck level for her quarters. He exited in broad steps, wondering what she would say to learn that part of the map for their homeward journey had been as plain as... well, as plain as the tattoo on his face. His dimples widened again as he shook his head.

The jaunt to the captain’s quarters was a quick one. He buzzed her with his arrival, and her doors whooshed open. She stood there in front of him, relaxed in off-duty garb of a gray jumper over a darker gray body stocking. The light behind her was low, except in a corner location where a reading chair obviously had been in use. He glanced at her hands, and saw a novelpadd clasped by the fingers of her right hand.

"Captain, I apologize for disturbing you in your off-time..."

She shook her head as once again a closed laugh came from her throat.

"Chakotay, when do I... or you, for that matter... ever really have *off-time*? Please... please, come in," she said, waving him inside and away from the doors. A quick cool breeze behind him signaled their closing.

"Now... what is this discovery that you and Seven have found?" she asked, ushering him to the sofa underneath her wide spaceportal window. Once he was seated, she placed her book on the low table in front of the sofa, and sat at the end opposite him. She pulled her legs up underneath her body, and seemed to be settling down for a long story from her favorite storyteller.

The first officer took a deep breath. He hoped that she would not think of this as just another one of his "fables", but take it seriously. Maybe I should have had her meet me in astrometrics, he thought.

"Kathryn, it seems that Seven has decoded some subspace signals, that, when amplified and combined with a map of the area in the Delta Quadrant which we have traveled, appears to almost complete a map..." he paused, hoping for her acceptance of the theory, or least a positive response to continue their quest. "...a map that would get us back to the Alpha Quadrant."

"What?" Janeway asked, her voice and body jolting with shock at the suggested theory. "Are you saying that she thinks that she can create a map for us with these signals?" She jumped up from her seated position, and half danced two steps towards him, before seating herself again. "Did you see the map? Is it real? What do you think?"

Chakotay began laughing, and he instinctively reached over to Janeway’s animated hands, urging them into a calmer pose.

"Oh, it’s real, all right. You don’t know how real!" he continued. He recounted the story of the time earlier in their odyssey when they had come across the Sky Spirit people, and how he had found his markings among their sacred rituals... of their stories of their people having traveled great distances to another world, and leaving descendants... and traditions there.

"This map... this pattern... Kathryn, what we have so far, is this," he said quietly, taking her right hand in his left, and lifting her fingers to rest upon his dark blue markings, tracing them along the pattern. He continued speaking softly, as her fingers continued tracing.

"This design... this pattern... seems to be their map to travel from the Delta Quadrant to Earth, in the Alpha Quadrant."

She withdrew her fingers, her eyes asking more questions than her voice could speak.

"Your tattoo? Are you certain? How do we interpret it? What else have you and Seven discovered? How long?...."

"Please... one question at a time, Kathryn," he laughed, placing two fingers over her lips to silence the flow of her inquisitiveness.

Her reactions told him that she did not disbelieve, but that she required much more information before she would be convinced completely.

"Unfortunately, what we have is an unsolved... or at least, incomplete... mystery," he continued, now enclosing her fingers and her hand between his two larger ones. "It seems that the signal indicates that the horizontal lines of my tattoo are joined with yet more of the design... there is evidence that the lines connect with a spiral or coiled section; it is incomplete. And before you ask, Seven has been searching for more signals to decode into the pattern."

Janeway thought for a moment, and then asked, "What about the garbled messages from Starfleet that we received? Has she investigated this possibility?"

"One of the first things she did," Chakotay answered, shaking his head. Nothing."

He released Janeway’s hands as he led into his next suggestion. He subconsciously was drawing his design with his right index finger in the table in front of him, his eyes focusing on the unknown of another dimension.

"We have wondered if there might be someone else aboard Voyager who might also have a ritualistic design or tattoo similar to mine... something that might provide us with our missing pattern piece." He was shaking his head, realizing the improbability of such a statement. "Although why... or how... such a design could be here... at this time... Anyway," he looked up at her and his eyes as much as his voice queried, "I was wondering if I could have your permission to ask the doctor about any indication in the crew’s medical records, or if he himself had noticed anything that would fall into that category."

Janeway got up, and slowly walked around the other end of the sofa, gazing out into the dark void of space, with the stars providing pinhole openings to the other side of the universe.

"Chakotay, you might not have to go that far," she answered softly with a slight sigh, turning to him with a firm knowing expression on her face.

It was now his turn to look surprised, with the questions tumbling from his mouth. He rose, his brow furrowing as he approached her.

"Do you know of such a person?" he asked.

"Indeed I do," she answered, her eyes now grasping his. "Me."

"You?" he responded incredulously. "You have a tattoo? Where... when?"

Her laugh quieted his inquires. She walked toward her desk, her hands idly playing with the piece of carved obsidian that served as a paperweight.

"Well, I think they may qualify... " she started, looking across the room to him. "I have some peculiar markings that have appeared over the last two or three years. The doctor noticed them before I did, and we both presumed at first that they were broken blood vessels or latent birthmarks. However, over the past few months... and I thought it was my imagination playing games... they seemed to have developed into a definite pattern."

"You?" he stammered. "When did you first notice them? Do you have any idea what they are, or what caused them?" he asked fervently.

She was now delighted with his curious response, as enthusiastic as hers was moments earlier.

"It was a little over two years ago when I first noted the discoloration. I was dressing, following a shower, and thought that I had bumped into a sharp edge which had left a bruised area. But it did not hurt. I forgot about it until a couple of weeks later, when the affected area seemed to get bigger. So I went to sickbay. The doctor examined the marking, but could not detect any tissue damage, or signs of infection or allergy. There did not seem to be any vascular or nerve involvement, either. All there appeared to be was an accumulation of an aniline-like bluish pigment. We were both mystified. However, my overall health was excellent; there were no adverse effects, so we decided to monitor the situation."

Chakotay’s unconscious staccato nods seemed to punctuate her story.

She continued. "I hypothesized that perhaps one of my visits to a planet had exposed me to some sort of a dye, which was indelible on my skin. Or something that I ate, that seemed to have produced an adverse reaction with isolated cells. We mentioned the peculiarity to Kes before she left us, and even she could not suggest anything concrete. She did examine it once, and stated that it looked like... almost if... someone were writing a message."

"And?" Chakotay urged her on.

"And... the lines grew a little more, from a series of several unequal parallel lines, to a rather ornate spiraled shell-like pattern, which then continued in a narrow horn-like design."

She stopped, and a slight titter came from behind her closed lips, as her cheeks suddenly flushed. "Actually, I have not seen the last bit of the pattern, as it is in...um... a location that I cannot see."

"Can any of us... by that I mean, the crew... see them?" he asked.

She laughed nervously, "Well, not exactly. They are covered by my clothes."

A gleam came into his eyes, as he sensed her rising discomfort with discussing its hidden location. He pushed on, gently. "Oh, I see. Are they on your back? Your shoulders? Your..."

She spun on him, her face becoming increasingly flushed. "Let’s just say, they are in an inaccessible area, and leave it at that."

Now it was his turn to blush. "I’m sorry... I really didn’t mean to pry. But... we really need you to obtain a copy of the exact pattern, in order for us to integrate it with what we already have."

"Mmmmm," she said thoughtfully. "That might be a little difficult for me to do by myself. Perhaps I should ask the doctor for his professional objectivity in drawing it for you."

Chakotay did not want to embarrass Janeway any more, but he knew that he and Seven would need more than a drawing.

"Kathryn, we really need an exact replica of the design. A holograph, or a visual scan of the area to astrometrics..."

"Yes; yes; I understand," she stated uncomfortably. "And I realize that the sooner you get it, the faster we can get our answers." She sighed. "All right; I will contact sickbay, and we can both talk to the doctor to see if he can make the necessary scans for you."

"That would be greatly appreciated," Chakotay said, trying to remain calm in light of the fact that she might share with him the very plans necessary for them to get back to the Alpha Quadrant. But... where had her markings come from? Why was she selected? He thought back to the time when they were in contact with the Sky Spirit people... how he was caught on the planet with them, and she had attempted to get Voyager through the planet’s massive storms... all of that energy that was being transmitted through the heavy atmosphere. Could it be? Was that when it had all begun? Had they selected her, after their pleas for help to return?

He started to speak, when she cut him short with a response to her hail to sickbay.

"Doctor, this is Captain Janeway..."

"Captain!" B’Elanna Torres answered. "I was just going to contact you. It seems that the doctor, in developing another one of his life improvement programs, has managed to lock himself into a data file with an encryption none of us can understand right now."

"We’ve lost the doctor?" Janeway responded, in a mildly panicked voice.

B’Elanna answered with a nervous laugh. "No, not really. Just for a couple of hours. We’ll have him back soon. And, Captain... please talk with him again about doing things like this! The time might come when we can’t decode him..."

"Yes, of course. All right; thank you, B’Elanna. Let me know when we have him back on line. Carry on."

"Yes, Captain," the chief engineer answered obviously anxious to get back to her most recent problem.

Kathryn took in a deep breath. "Well, I guess we wait."

Chakotay thought for a second and then said, "I could ask Seven if she would do the honors..."

Janeway stopped him in midsentence. "No! I will not have that emotionless woman touch me! Why, for all I know, she could still assimilate people!"

Her second in command chuckled at her vehement outrage with the very thought of the former Borg touching her.

She continued, obviously agitated at the entire thought of exposing herself so openly. "If anyone must do it, I would rather it be you. I feel the most comfortable with you...." she stopped suddenly, realizing the gaff she had committed.

He stood there, smiling at her. "Really? You are the most comfortable with me? Not with B’Elanna or Sam or..."

She turned and walked away from him, more than flustered by her unthinking comment.

"What I mean is..."

"Is what?" he continued, delighting in seeing her twist.

"I mean... we are comfortable with each other. We are good friends. We have seen each other in...um... less than perfect situations before, and..." She stopped and turned towards him. "All right. You will do it. And I trust you will remain objective."

He laughed, as he walked over to her, lightly taking hold of her small shoulders and gently pulling her towards him.

"Of course. This is nothing more... than performing a necessary duty. I think that you are far too sensitive about the entire matter. Now... stop being so coy; where is this horrible location?"

Her looked steeled, as did her voice, and she said with no emotion., "It is on the upper inside part of my left thigh, and apparently winds to the back and concludes on my... um... gluteus maximus."

When she first started talking, he had quickly become solemn, matching the mood which she presented. But, but the time her final words were completed, it was all he could do to keep from breaking into laughter. His hands loosened their hold on her shoulders, as he tried to contain himself.

"On... your..." and he stopped, unable to continue until he pulled himself together.

Janeway remained stoic, pulling herself into a formal, erect posture, her eyes daring him to laugh.

"You heard what I said, Commander. Now you understand why I was reluctant to discuss this with anyone other than the doctor. I can just imagine some of the talk that would ensue after the release of such information. Now, I am beginning to wonder if I should have even trusted your confidence."

The use of his title sobered Chakotay.

"Please forgive me, Kathryn; I didn’t mean any disrespect."

But his eyes were still laughing, and their infectiousness reached out and into hers. Suddenly, her shoulders began small, tittering movements, which cascaded along to her arms and legs and face. The rest of her body was quickly caught up in overpowering paroxysms of laughter, inviting him to join in the flippant absurdity of the very private joke, the seriousness of the situation being diffused with inherent silliness.

The tandem laughter threw the couple off balance, with their bodies’ responses to the emotion. And, suddenly, in one synchronous movement, they reached out to each other for physical support, to keep from toppling over. He again grasped her shoulders, his firm hold steadying her, just as she reached out... and up... and took his head between her hands. The sudden stillness brought a silent focus of their eyes and souls. Not a word was said, but they both knew their next move. She slowly pulled his head down close to hers, his lips opening to say her name.

"Kathryn..." he managed to whisper before her lips engulfed his ready and willing mouth.

The only noise heard in the room was that of two rapidly beating hearts, each attempting to match the thumping rhythm of the other. They seemed to have ceased breathing, so wrapped in the euphoria of the sudden action... each delighting in the exploration of the unknown of their tongues touching... probing... tasting; each exhilarated with the hungry responses of the other.

With every sip of each other, their hands began a new journey of their own. Her small hands slipped from the deep crevices of his cheeks to the further depths of his firm jaw. Plummeting into the strong sinews of his neck, each finger found new treasures in the firmament of his body... eager to learn all of his buried secrets. The plateaus of his wide shoulders allowed her hands to rest momentarily, only to begin their long awaited assault onto the hills and valleys of his chest.

His more encompassing hands proceeded with the tenderest of touches. Holding her like a delicate porcelain plate, his hands barely touched her upper arms as they slid down to her elbows. Gently, his fingers led back up her arms, now caressing the soft undersides. A slight shiver ran through her body, as she felt him now move towards the center. His fingers protectively palpitated the soft breast tissue, as he brought both of his hands towards each other, their common goal being to unite in the deep valley between her breasts.

She reluctantly drew back, her voice heavy with yearning.

"Chakotay... I’m sorry. I... I don’t know what happened."

His full lips, still glistening with the residue of their kiss, widened into a warm smile.

"Ummm... and I do believe that you precipitated this."

Her smile radiated back the aura of his. "But I don’t believe you tried to resist."

"I never could resist you," he answered softly, his fingers tenderly tracing the outline of her face, pushing back a weak, wispy wave of her hair.

She sighed. "This will never do. We have a job to perform, and I don’t think that our current frames of mind would provide the... um... objectivity that we need right now."

His smile took on a new mischievousness. "Why, Kathryn... I thought you said that you could trust me!"

"I guess that it’s my own reactions that concerns me," she answer back. "If your touch can produce the sensations that they just have..." her words dwindled off.

"Sensations? What sort of sensations?" he teased.

She had turned away, hiding the flushed expression on her face. She walked quickly over to her desk.

"Let me see... here is my tricorder. I believe I can adjust it to scan an area up close by taking this and..." her voice dwindled, as she busied herself making adjustments to the instrument. Chakotay stood silently, smiling and observing her obvious ploy to distract him from the question.

"There!" she said triumphantly, turning once more to him. "That should record the pattern with detail, without allowing more... um...personal identifying characteristics to appear."

"Kathryn, we are going to have to let people know the source of the pattern."

"No, we are not," she stated firmly. "We will allow that it was discovered on an anonymous crew member; that is all the necessary identification that is needed."

"And you don’t think that there will be guesses made?" he chuckled.

She thought a minute. "Hmm. You have a point there. All right, you may identify me as the source, if and when it is necessary. We do not need to have this blurted out like orders of the day. But, please, Chakotay... do not mention the where."

"Of course not," he softly answered, now calibrating the instrument himself. But he knew... as did she... that there would certainly be gossip about that, also. Tom Paris just might become a very wealthy man…

She walked over towards the door to her sleeping area. "Umm... let me... ah... get ready for this."

"Certainly," he answered, smiling at her. "Where do you think might be the best... um... locale for our data collecting session?"

Her face responded with various emotional contortions as the possibilities quickly scanned through her mind. Nodding her head, she stated with affirmation, "Perhaps my bed would be the best place. The dark blue coverlet will make a good contrasting background."

It was his turn to put some thought behind an answer. "Umm... but Kathryn... although your bedcover is standard Starfleet, it also has telltale gold threads running through it indicating your rank. Don’t you think that there should be something a little less obvious?"

Once more, Janeway appeared quite flustered, but just as quickly brightened.

"The holodeck... Sandrine’s... the pool table! Nice dark green background... and anyone could be there."

"Sandrine’s it is," Chakotay agreed. "Let’s go."

Moments later, much to their relief, they found themselves outside a vacant holodeck, with no other crewmen around. Janeway quickly called up the familiar recreation program and they entered the popular venue. Sandrine met them at the door.

"Madame Captain, monsieur... bon soir! Zo good of you to..." she purred at them.

"Mlle. Sandrine, we wish some privacy. Would you be so kind..." Janeway asked of their holographic hostess.

The hologram winked at them, looking them up and down.

"But of course. To ze plaisir, n’est pas?" she winked at them, quickly disappearing through the curtained doorway in the rear.

"Privacy lock," Janeway then called out. She turned to Chakotay. "Um... I never quite prepared myself for this back in my quarters. Could I ask you to turn your back while I...uh... divest myself of a couple of layers of clothing?"

Chakotay’s grin became pseudo-licentious. "Whatever you say, Captain," he responded, slowly turning away from her. "But... I’m going to see you no matter how much your modesty forbids it," he chuckled. He could hear her slight grunts as she pulled off her slippers and the form-fitting leggings.

A minute or so passed before she responded.

"All right," she responded in a somewhat faltering voice. "I guess I’m ready."

He turned and looked at her, the tunic now performing as a miniskirted dress, her slender, naked legs pale in the dimmed light of Sandrine’s. Her leggings and shoes were in a neat little stack beside the massive pool table.

Chakotay walked over to her, the tricorder now held in the waistband of his uniform.

"Here; let me help you up," he said, firmly grasping her around her waist. She gave a slight upward leap, as his hands hoisted her slender body up over the edge of the table.

"Unghhh.... this surface is hard!" she allowed, as she quickly assumed a seated position, stretching her legs out in front of her. She daintily readjusted the short fabric of the tunic to cover what bare skin it could. His hands were still loosely around her waist.

"Perhaps you should lie down," he said huskily.

"Of course," she agreed, bending her body backwards, allowing him to guide her into the prone position. When she was down, he backed away a bit.

"Comfortable?" he half-asked, half-swallowed.

"As much as anyone could be, lying on a surface of very hard wood, cushioned by only one millimeter of felt," she half-answered, half-laughed.

Suddenly, they were both silent, as if they were holding their breaths and willing their hearts into stillness. For several seconds, the air became immobilized with their unease. Finally, Chakotay spoke.

"Well, we had better get this over with. Ready?"

She took a deep breath, as her shaking left hand reached towards the hem of her tunic. "Ready," she answered softly.

She closed her eyes, as she felt his right hand with the tricorder come closer to her body. She inched the garment up to within a few centimeters of her groin, knowing that the markings were now visible... hoping that nothing else was. She jumped slightly as she felt his left hand calm her left hand, helping her raise the material ever a little bit more.

"That’s it, Kathryn. I see it," his voice responded. A quick intake of his breath told her that what he saw was important.

"Kathryn... this is truly amazing! This is a continuation of my tattoo... this just might be our hope..."

She felt the barely perceivable vibrations of the instrument as he started his scan; she felt the moist warmth of his breath as his face came closer to monitor the area he was recording. The almost non-existent hum of the tool was being overtaken by the increasingly deepened cadence of his breathing.

Suddenly, his breathing stopped, as he barely said, "Um... Kathryn... I’m going to have to raise your tunic just a little more, and ... uh... you must spread your legs more, so that I can get the image of the coil as it... um... goes around...ungh... your leg..."

With her eyes still closed, and willing her own breathing to stay in control, she answered huskily, "Yes... all right." She raised the tunic; it now was several centimeters above her pubis. She bit her lower lip, knowing that she was revealing an area of her body to him that very few people in her life had ever seen. She heard his breathing take on a more shallow tone, as a very slight, guttural groan came from deep within his throat.

"That’s... fine... Kathryn... yes.. I can... trace it... fine... now."

She ceased breathing again, concentrating only on the hum of the tricorder, willing the session to quickly end.

A large heavy drop of warm perspiration fell from his forehead onto the cool, fleshy crevice between her leg and torso. The surprising sensation startled her.

"Ungh!" she said involuntarily, slightly arching her body and jerking her leg.

He reached down with his free hand to calm her.

"It’s all right; I’m sorry," he said, gently stroking her leg before he realized what he was doing.

Her left hand reached over and covered his, quieting him now.

"My mistake," she stammered. "Let’s finish," she shivered with the sensations of his touch reverberating throughout her body.

Several deep breaths from both of them brought their thoughts back to the job before them.

"I think we are just about there," he said. "I just have to get the final bit on your... um... back. Let’s roll you over now..." he said softly, putting the tricorder down on the table below her feet.

"Right," she responded, flexing her right arm and pulling it under her, as she shifted her body clockwise and lying on her right side.

He deftly rearranged the skirted tunic, pulling it up to reveal the last bit of the design, the elongated horn-like lines meeting at an infinity point on the rounded flesh of her buttock. As he scanned the instrument across the markings, his left hand gently followed the bluish form on her pale skin... so soft, yet so firm.

The scan was complete; he lowered the tricorder. But his left hand seemed immobilized on her skin. He knew that he mustn’t, but the temptation was just too great. He gently allowed his fingers to begin small feathery swirls across the soft roundness of her inviting body. He closed his eyes, lost in the sensation, but knowing full well that her hand was probably even now making its way back to his, to brusquely remove it from its trespassing. But she remained still... calm. The only movement he sensed was coming from her chest, as she exhaled a low moan.

"Chakotay..." she finally murmured, "help me... take... this.. off.." She rose and twisted into a somewhat seated position, pulling up at the lower edges of her tunic.

In a reflex action, he reached over and helped her raise the garment over her head, revealing her now completely naked body, poised enticingly on the pool table. She turned, swinging her legs over the raised edge.

"Kathryn..." he murmured, reaching out and tenderly easing her to lean back again, down onto the hard green surface. Her knees naturally flexed at the wide edge, and her legs spread slightly, once more allowing him to see the path of the design around her thigh. Thumb and fingers of his right hand seductively traced the completing portions of their hidden map, this time leading both of them onto another journey.

As his fingers lead the way, she groaned and pulled her legs further apart. He now saw another invitation, one that he knew she was silently offering to him. He leaned down and kissed the upper corner of the thatch of dark auburn down that presented itself. He lifted his head and quickly offered his fingers yet another area of exploration, this time one of warm moistness. His fingers once more traced a pathway, teasing and pleasing the deep red lips that were ready for him. In response to his touch, she raised her hips slightly, now opening a new delight to him. His fingers sank into the dark cave of delight that she presented.

If Chakotay were the searching treasure hunter, Kathryn was the willing reward. No longer elusive, she offered her wealth freely, drawing him deeper and deeper; her fortune equaling his... her ecstasy commensurated by his.

Her hands could not remain still; the tremors now racing through her body triggered tingles in the smallest nerve. A fever of flush filled her face, as her hand brushed the tense hardness in his groin. Her fingers shallowly grasped the hardness filling his lower uniform. Tandem groans arose, as his fingers found the soft site of her internal release.

He quickly withdrew his fingers, only to replace them with his warm, muscular tongue, continuing the blissful assault to her senses. His moans rapidly joined hers as he drank deeply of the rich flowing wine of her desire. Her trembling hands reached out and grasped the sides of his head, guiding him in yet another unknown mission. Suddenly, she released her hold, as her body could no longer obey itself. She arched her back upward, and with a muffled scream, she allowed herself liberation.

He stood upright, his breathing now rapid and shallow; he, too, was flushed with the hue of passion. However, his eyes were not glazed as her semi-closed ones --- they were wide and dark, glistening with the fervor of unfulfilled desire.

She looked at him through the haze of her climax, sensing his need. He stood there, his legs slightly apart, his arms splayed from his body. She could sense... smell... taste... see his desire, under the restraining bondage of his uniform.

In a husky satiated voice, she called him.

"Chakotay..."

He closed the space between them, as she reached out and started undoing the various fastenings of his uniform. Using his strong form as a brace, she pulled herself to a half-sitting position, and continued her ministrations. Silently, he allowed her to peel away the heavy layers. Only when he alone could pull off his thick boots did he pull away. He swiftly performed the last task, and now stood in front of her, at full attention, awaiting his captain’s next order.

Her eyes issued the silent command. He moved towards her as she once more laid back on the hard table. Gently, his hands rested on her inside thighs, the fingers of his right hand caressing the saving design that would lead them home... the design that had shown them the way. With the slightest of pressure, he urged her legs apart, allowing him a comforting, welcoming space. With a true aim, he entered her... slowly, firmly, surely.

She grasped her lower lip with her upper teeth as the solid silkiness of his tumescence filled her. She drew in her breath as he drew out; a gasped "ahhh" escaped her lips as he re-entered, this time deeper and more forcefully. A progressive rhythm of repeated motions drew each of them further and further towards the oblivion of sweet release. She raised her legs and locked them around his rocking torso, urging him to fill her with his fullness.

A sudden tremor of his thighs signaled her to relinquish her firm grasp. A cry came from the depths of his soul, as he plunged one last time into her, his climax releasing the tension of his body. An unsteadiness quickly overtook his legs, and he slumped over her, his arms on either side of her, his hands holding onto the edges of the table for support. He remained inside of her, as he descended from his crest. Ripples of aftershock of his orgasm sent lesser waves of sensation throughout her, and she reached up with one hand to caress his passion-soaked face, while comforting his heaving chest with the other.

Finally gathering the strength to speak, he gasped, "Kathryn... I’m sorry. I didn’t... mean... for this... to happen."

She continued wiping his cheeks and forehead.

"Shhhh.... it happened, and that’s all that there is to it."

His body was now completely exhausted, and he pulled back... and out of her. His head lowered itself, as limp and weary as his flaccid member. They remained in a silent repose, allowing themselves to assimilate the reality of the moment and summon the strength to move.

After several interminable minutes, Kathryn slipped off the table, and came over to him, drawing him close to her sweat-covered body.

"We knew that this was going to happen sooner or later," she said in a voice that was sweet and soothing, her face slipping into a sunny smile. "Little did we know that finding the way home for Voyager would also find the way home for us."

She took his face between her hands, and, as she had earlier in her quarters, drew him to her, and engulfed his warm, sweet mouth with hers.

"I can think of no better way of exploration. And you, my dear Commander, can really fly a ship!"

He became more animated with a slight laugh.

"Anything for my captain," he said, smoothing back her damp hair. "Well, I guess we did accomplish the primary mission."

She joined her alto laugh with his. "Yes, we certainly did. And we had better get those scans to astrometrics on the double, Commander."

"Aye, aye, Captain," he now laughed heartily, as they started picking up the scattered pieces of clothing from around the room.

Kathryn turned to the pool table to retrieve her tunic, and saw the dark circle of damp evidence of their lovemaking on the felt pool table covering.

"Oh, my," she said, embarrassed.

"It’s a hologram, Kathryn; it will disappear as soon as we close the program."

"You’re right," she nodded, as they tumbled into each other, their bodies still not fully recovered from the strenuous "workout", and fumbling with the clothing. Finally, they completed their task, and tried not to look too much worse for the wear.

"Perhaps I had better go back to my quarters and... um... freshen up before taking this information to Seven."

Janeway laughed. "Yes, perhaps you should. Our ever-inquisitive little girl would surely be able to tell that something was... um... not quite right about her senior officer."

One last smoothing of their clothes, and Janeway disengaged the privacy lock, turned, and said, "Save and close program.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The news about the matching tattoos and the strong possibility of their providing a map for a conclusion to Voyager’s long journey spread quickly throughout the ship. Captain Janeway had promptly reminded everyone that much still had to be done to ascertain the validity of the designs, but that there was much hope.

Most of the off-duty crew had opened Sandrine’s and gathered there for a raucous celebration. The music was loud, the drinks strong, and spirits were high.

Tom Paris was rounding up folks for a game of pool. As he was racking up the balls on the dark green felt surface, he noticed a circle of discoloration on the side of the table.

Sighing deeply as he called out, "Okay... who spilled a drink on the pool table? Is nothing sacred around here?"

And Voyager silently, swiftly continued her homeward trip.

~ Finis ~


End file.
